


Tax Purposes

by brinnanza



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, RQG 70: Quoth the Raven, anyway HERE'S THIS I GUESS, except he's not actually a class traitor, it's time for class traitor crow feelings, listen I'm physically incapable of backing down from a challenge, there's a context
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinnanza/pseuds/brinnanza
Summary: At least, he’sprettysure Franz is still his master. Technically. There’s definitely a bond of some sort there - he can feel the familiar ebb and flow of Franz’s emotions, even if he doesn’t know exactly where in the city Franz is hiding. And heishiding, Barry knows. There’s something carefully guarded and anticipatory humming in their link. It’s making Barry a bit restless himself, an itchy buzzing where his feathers meet skin, like he could be so muchmore, and will be when the moment finally arrives.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	Tax Purposes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CuteSkirmishSorcerer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteSkirmishSorcerer/gifts).



> listen. a gauntlet was thrown down and I tripped over myself to pick it up because this is the kind of person I am. the number of extensive and detailed crow headcanons I developed in the course of writing this is, quite frankly, ridiculous, but so help me god I am invested in this fucking crow now. you brought this on yourself bryn.
> 
> title is a ref to the mech's dr pilchard's ignominious demise because it's Still A Thing, specifically this bit:
> 
> [Jonny d'Ville] “Ugh. Why is it always immortality? Why does no one ever want anything more interesting?”  
> [Ashes O'Reilly] “I know, right? What about, say, gold? I have all this gold lying around.”  
> [Jonny d'Ville] “Yeah… Why do you have all that gold?”  
> [Ashes O'Reilly] “Oh, it’s uh. It’s for tax purposes.”

In retrospect, Barry thinks, that could have gone a lot better.

His name’s not actually Barry (he doesn’t _have_ a name, at least not one pronounceable to non-corvids) and it also could have gone a lot worse, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, he’s right back where he started, alone in a cage in an empty room, his master nowhere to be found.

At least, he’s _pretty_ sure Franz is still his master. Technically. There’s definitely a bond of some sort there - he can feel the familiar ebb and flow of Franz’s emotions, even if he doesn’t know exactly where in the city Franz is hiding. And he _is_ hiding, Barry knows. There’s something carefully guarded and anticipatory humming in their link. It’s making Barry a bit restless himself, an itchy buzzing where his feathers meet skin, like he could be so much _more_ , and will be when the moment finally arrives.

If only the large shiny man had come through with the gold.

Not that he actually needs gold for anything or indeed has much of a desire for it, but people are obsessed with the stuff. It’s pretty, he’ll give them that, and he supposes it has its uses, but mostly he’d just been curious if they’d actually give him any. It’s been so _boring_ since Franz went weird and left him here to wait.

He pecks idly at the lock on the cage. It’s entirely for show, of course - he’d be quite a rubbish familiar if he was stymied by a cage door of all things, and if there’s one thing he’s not, it’s rubbish. He’s an excellent familiar actually; Franz tells him so all the time. Or… he did. Before. But Barry is loyal and capable and independent enough to be useful but not so much as to be a hindrance. 

Which is why he’s still in the cage in Franz’s office, where Franz asked him to wait, instead of assisting whatever it is Franz is doing down in the city. Apparently, there are zombies about. Barry is great with zombies, and not just because of the visceral satisfaction of getting a talon in deep through an eyesocket. Franz can handle himself just fine around zombies, especially when he’s the one responsible for them, but still, there is a hazy desire for action within him, speeding up the already rapid pace of his heart.

He hops up onto his perch, grooms his feathers restlessly, hops back down. He nibbles at some of the seed he’d gathered, but it’s not what he wants, not really. He’s not sure what it is he does want, only that nothing here in his cage, in the office, seems to satisfy the nebulous, covetous ache thrumming across his bond with Franz.

He shuffles around the cage a bit more, scattering seed, and lets out a loud squawk to the empty room. At least the intruders had been entertaining, even if they did rifle through all of Franz’s things and refuse to give him any gold. Now it’s just Barry, alone with his thoughts and an impatient hum that ruffles his feathers.

Eventually, he tucks his head under a wing and dozes off. Franz will be back for him. He always is.


End file.
